Nine Months: Drabbles
by Kimmychu
Summary: A series of drabbles that takes place after my story, Nine Months. DannyFlack!


**Nine Months: Drabbles**

Fandom: CSI:NY

Author: Kimmychu

Rating: FRAO (Just for the first drabble, actually.)

Pairing: Danny/Flack

Content Warning: Schmoop. Mushiness. Maybe some baby-induced squeeing.

Spoilers: Nada.

Summary: A series of drabbles that takes place after my story, Nine Months.

Disclaimer: Sadly, Danny and Flack do not belong to me. Not yet anyway. However, Danielle does, heh.

**( Oooo . oooO )**

Author's Notes: Here are some drabbles, post-**Nine Months**. They pretty much came outta the blue and bit me. They probably won't make much sense if you haven't read the aforementioned story yet.

**( Oooo . oooO )**

**i. Cherry Poppin' Good**

It was one of them submarine movies playing on the television. The kind that always got Flack all sorts of horny.

"Oh boy, _torpedoes!_"

Danny smirked. He snuggled closer to Flack on the couch, resting his head on the other man's shoulder. The blanket was slipping down their lower bodies and legs, and he tugged it back up to chest level.

"What is it with ya and phallic, explosive objects, huh?"

The homicide detective quickly brought his knees together, trapping Danny's leg between his thighs and shins. Flack snickered.

"Think ya answered yer own question right there," Flack said in a sultry voice.

The CSI cackled and poked Flack in the side with his forefinger.

It was already near the end of the movie, where the American naval officers were leaving the German submarine. Flack was all eyes as the one he nicknamed the Torpedo Guy whooped and climbed up the ladder and out of the scene.

"Man, that was one hot ass."

Danny hmphed. "_My_ ass is hotter."

"Ya know … he kinda looked like you too."

Danny turned his head up to look at Flack with narrowed but amused eyes. "Ya _always _think there's some guy in this movie or that movie who kinda looks like me." He gesticulated with his hands beneath the blanket. "Like - like that _war_ movie … what's it called? I don't remember … and that _baseball_ one -"

"Ya still haven't worn the whole Yankees baseball costume I bought ya."

Flack's statement earned the man a squinty glower and another poke in the side from Danny.

"Do ya know how _tight_ the pants were!"

The taller man grinned from ear to ear. "_'Course_ I do. Why do ya think I _bought_ it?"

Danny rolled his eyes and thumped his head once against Flack's sturdy shoulder. Good thing Flack couldn't see his smile from this angle.

The movie ending credits were running, the television screen all black with the white words slowly scrolling upwards.

"I can see it now," Flack said in a low voice. "You as hot torpedo man in skin-tight pants, and me as the handsome captain in hot leather."

Danny groaned and then sniggered into Flack's neck.

"Yeah, and I can watch ya climbin' that ladder up and down all day." Flack's blue eyes became half-lidded. "_Mmmm_. Bubblebutt."

The CSI smacked Flack playfully on the chest. "Ya gettin' all _heavy_ into _role-playin' _now, ah, Don?" Danny pushed himself up and lithely maneuvered himself onto Flack's lap, facing his lover. "If _you _were the captain, I'd be _screwed_."

It took the shorter man a while to figure out why Flack was smiling so broadly and waggling his thick eyebrows the way he was.

"_Oh_, you walked straight into _that _one -"

Whatever else Flack wanted to say was drowned out by Danny's lips closing over his in an open-mouthed kiss. Flack wisely stayed silent and began to pull off Danny's black tank top.

The best conversations they had never needed any words anyway.

**( Oooo . oooO )**

**ii. Helium Man**

Danny was too busy cackling to try to pull Flack's fingers away from the man's nose.

"Don … _will ya _… will ya stop _holdin'_ yer nose? It's _not _that bad!"

Flack only pinched his nose harder. "Yesh, ith _ish_."

Danny gave up on persuading his lover otherwise and waved a hand at Flack, still chuckling. He went back to putting the fresh diaper onto Danielle, who was staring in curiosity with large, blue eyes at her other daddy. The baby sucked on her fist and kicked energetically in the air with both legs.

"_Whoa_, hey there, daddy has to make sure yer diapers are on right, 'kay?" The CSI gently stroked his daughter's chubby legs, tickling the soles of her too. He grinned at her big smile. Her liveliness was contagious. In the best way.

"Itsh _imposshible_. Noh huhman cahn makh ah shmell like _thath_."

That got Danny laughing again. "Don … it's _normal_, _okay? _Haven't ya been 'round babies before?"

Flack, still holding his nose, glowered at Danny. "Yesh, buth I'm whiser thanh to be theh one to changhe them when they _goh!_"

The shorter detective smoothed over the last tape holding the diaper together, then slapped his hands together. "There, _done_."

He turned to see Flack was _still _pinching his nose.

"Don. You can stop that now."

"Noh." Flack puffed out his cheeks. "Itsh a _thrick_. Theh shmell's still there."

Danny rubbed at his temple, endeavoring his best to not crack up again. Sometimes he felt like he was living with two babies instead. And the six-month-old one was more mature than the thirty-year-old one.

"Musth be shomethin' fromh _yer_ shide of theh fhamily."

The CSI's blue eyes narrowed dangerously. _Ohh_, that was _not _funny.

Flack looked like he just got his foot caught in a bear trap. "Uh oh."

Danny's eyes tapered even more.

The homicide detective's wide gaze flitted here and there in an attempt to appear innocent.

"_Well_." Danny carefully picked up their baby and placed her on his chest and shoulder. "Danielle and I are going to watch Spongebob Squarepants." He walked off to the open bedroom door, not waiting for a response from Flack.

"Uhm, Dhanny. Whath 'bhout theh used dhiaper?"

At the doorway, Danny gave Flack a toothy, almost-fake smile. "Why, _thanks_ fer volunteerin' to throw it away, _honey_. Ya can clean up the room too, while you're at it."

"_Buh_ … whait -"

Danny swaggered out of the room towards the living area where the television was. He snickered to himself. It was beginning to sink into Flack's head what he'd just been asked to do, he could tell.

He sat on the couch, gently moving Danielle around in his arms to face the television. Picked up the remote control and switched on the television.

Danny bit his lower lip, smirking sideways. _Waaaaait _for it -

"_NOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!_"

In his arms, Danielle giggled.

**( Oooo . oooO )**

**iii. Michelin Baby**

"One … two … three … four …"

Danny finally gave in to his curiosity, and lifted his head from the forensics journal he was reading to look at Flack and Danielle at the other end of the bed. He pushed his spectacles higher up his nose.

"Don."

Flack was kneeling at the end of the bed, with their baby girl lying on the bed before him. The homicide detective had been changing Danielle into her pajama bodysuit for bedtime. But at the moment, she was only wearing her diapers.

And Flack was … counting something on their baby's rotund body.

"Don … what are ya _doin'?_"

The taller man seemed to not have heard him. Then, Flack suddenly threw up his hands and glanced at Danny.

"Six. _Six rolls!_"

Danny let the thick book fall back onto his thighs. He stared at his lover with a very perplexed expression. "Huh?"

"_Six rooooolls_, Danny!" Flack's blue eyes were ludicrously wide "Just on her _body!_"

"You were countin' the _rolls_ of _fat _on her body?" The CSI made a face. "Don, she's a six-month-old _baby_. Of _course_ she'd be fat!"

"_Yeah_, but - _but_ -" Flack spluttered for a minute or so, making funny noises through his lips that made Danielle gurgle with glee. "_Six_ rolls! She's like … the _Michelin Man _or somethin'!"

Danny couldn't help but laugh at the comparison. Their baby girl _did_ have rolls like the Michelin Man. He didn't mind, though. It was just another lovable aspect of his daughter.

"I _told_ ya, didn't I?"

The bespectacled man raised one eyebrow at Flack's question. "Told me what?"

"Told ya ya shouldn't have eaten all of Stella's _baklava_."

Flack promptly received whack to the face, courtesy of a plump pillow and Danny's strong arm.

**( Oooo . oooO )**

**iv. I Dream of Danielle**

He felt cold. He frowned, reaching around for the edge of the blanket with his eyes still closed.

"Don … stop hoggin' the blanket."

When Danny didn't get any answer, he peeled his eyes opened, then slowly rolled over on the bed. His eyes opened wider.

Huh. It was three in the morning and Flack wasn't in bed.

Danny blinked. Wait, the pillow was still there. Even Flack's head indentation was still in it.

But … no blanket.

After a soft groan and a nuzzle into the pillow beneath his head, Danny reluctantly lifted his head and got onto his elbows.

"Don?"

He heard a snore.

Coming from _above_ him.

Danny rolled onto his back.

Ah. _There _was his lover.

Flack was lying sideways, arms stretched out to one side. He had their dark red blanket half-hanging off his body and legs. The man's mouth was partially open, and a tiny trail of drool was suspending precariously from the edge of his lips.

Danny intertwined his fingers together over his flat stomach. He smiled to himself, eyes crinkled as he gazed at the slumbering man.

Wasn't every night he got to see Flack sleeping while the guy was levitated over five feet above the bed.

The CSI shook his head in amusement. How the heck did the man sleep like that with nothing propping him up underneath? Danny had absolutely no clue how Danielle's levitation powers worked. All he knew was that he had one _special _little girl.

"_Don_."

Flack merely replied with another hearty snore. The thread of drool started to stretch thin.

"_Don!_"

Flack's eyes opened to slits.

"_Hnn?_"

The homicide detective abruptly dropped like a stone.

"Aaaaaaa_AAAAAAHH!_"

Flack's yell was loud enough that it scared a few dogs outside into howling after the stunned man, who now lay next to Danny on the bed once more. The homicide detective's eyes were wide as saucers, staring blankly up at their bedroom ceiling.

Danny's lips twitched visibly. "Don, are ya okay?"

The taller man continued to stare at the ceiling, his whole lanky body rigid with alarm. After a minute passed, Flack revolved his head at a snail's pace to look at Danny.

"She did it again … didn't she?"

The CSI rubbed one hand across his mouth in order to conceal the growing smile there. "Uhm. Yeah."

Flack slowly turned his head back to stare at the ceiling once more.

"She's not gonna keep doin' this until she's eighteen … is she?"

This time, Danny had to bite his lower lip hard. "I dunno, Don. We haven't even reached the _terrible twos_ yet."

Flack dragged the blanket up over his face and groaned loudly.

**Fin.**


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